


Thought Contagion

by coma_typewriter, novelistgeek (orphan_account)



Category: jacksepticeye
Genre: Altered Mental States, Bi! Chase, Chase is a big mood, Comatose, Demons, Henrik needs to sleep, Illusions, Jameson is mute, Marvin can actually cast magic, Medical Procedures, Modern Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Torture, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Quipy Humor, So is Jackie, Trans! Jackie, Weapons, YouTube, perspective changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coma_typewriter/pseuds/coma_typewriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/novelistgeek
Summary: After meeting a couple familiar faces, Jack discovers the impossible: nothing around him is real and he's been trapped in a nightmarish coma for two and a half years. Jack is forced to relive and confront the deepest, darkest parts of his mind while fighting off a slew of demonic attacks from Him. Will he be able to fight off the evil infesting him, or will he fall deeper in to the darkness, too buried to be rescued?





	1. I Threatened the Intruders in My Home with a Stapler

Paying attention was  _ not _ going to happen that night.

Jack pressed pause on the game he was playing and let out a long sigh. His commentary was lacking and the game seemed bland, even though he was ecstatic for the release just weeks prior. His entire body felt heavy and exhausted, like sitting with a thousand pounds strapped to his limbs. He decided to take a break and paused his recording.

After pausing everything, he put a hand on his mug of tea. Cold and half full.  _ Oh, this won’t do at all,  _ he thought and walked out of his recording room, mug in hand. Jack moved sluggishly past his bathroom, bedroom, and finally downstairs to his kitchen, slumping over as he went in.

Jack leaned on the counter, rubbing his face with a groan. He pushed himself up wearily and focused on putting the kettle on the heat. The man pulled the box of assorted teas down from the shelf and plucked one out without looking at the label. He poured the cold tea down the drain, rinsed the cup out, and plopped the new teabag in. He leaned back on the counter and pulled his phone out of his pocket, and began mindlessly scrolling through Discord.

Thoughts began flooding into Jack’s head, coming and going. Why was he so tired lately? Nothing made sense, his workout routine hadn’t changed, and he had been sleeping in normal hours (well, as normal as they could be for a YouTuber). Maybe he hadn’t been eating as much as he thought. Of course, he had been recording a little more than usual, perhaps he just forgot to eat a few extra times! Or maybe he was just sitting down too long at a time. That had to be it. He made a mental note to take a longer break tomorrow between recordings. 

Jack glanced at the clock on his stove. For some reason, each time he tried to read the time, the numbers became blurry or jumbled. Unreadable. He tried to rub his eyes, but his arms grew heavy, as if they were made of cement. He looked back at his phone. The messages from his server grew blurrier the more he stared at them, until they just looked like white squiggles on his screen. He cursed under his breath; pointedly deciding he needed to sleep. Tea wasn’t important.

Just before he moved to turn the heat off, a resounding crash sounded throughout the house, making Jack jump out of his skin. He spun around towards the staircase. It had somehow come from his bedroom, but what was it? Did something fall? He had an irrational thought creep up his spine and made him shiver, but he quickly pushed it aside. Still, he needed to investigate, and beyond his better judgement, he picked up the stapler next to him and started slowly up his staircase.

His heart was pounding in his ears, and he brandished the stapler close to his head. He could barely make out faint, distressed voices coming up from his bedroom. Jack’s heart sunk. There was actual  _ intruders _ in his house! As he crept closer to his room, he could make out the culprits’ voices a little easier, 

“God damn it, Jackie, stop squirming! It’s already unstable enough, you’re making it harder to keep the spell up!” one voice scolded, making Jack freeze in his tracks.

“Fuck, shit, shit, I’m sorry, Marv! I didn’t realize shit would be  _ solid  _ for us!” the other voice, the one apparently named Jackie pleaded. He sounded obviously younger than his partner. “I thought you said we would just be apparitions!”

The first voice, Marv, gave out a frustrated sigh. “I said I  _ thought _ we would be apparitions. I wasn’t sure, I’ve never done this before!” he argued.

Jack paused, thinking to himself. Jackie, Marv… where had he heard those names before? It was itching him at the back of his head, but it just felt like static, trying to remember. He pushed the questions away and made another step up the staircase, finally putting his foot on the top. 

“Whoever you are, I’m armed,” Jack said deeply, making sure to hide the overwhelming anxiety in his throat. He pushed down then immediately clicked the stapler, making it sound like cocking a gun. “So just step out into the hallway, and I won’t shoot.”

The two voices sucked in, not making a noise. After a few seconds, the younger voice piped up. “I think he heard us,” he whispered, quite loudly in fact.

“ _ SHH! _ ”

Jack let out a low growl and made another advancement towards his room. “Last chance, come out now and I won’t shoot. I’m giving you three seconds! Three!”

The younger man gave a small whimper. “You said anything is possible here, Marvin, what if he actually has a gun?”  
“He doesn’t.”

Marvin. Why is that name so familiar? “Two!” Jack made another step toward his room. He was at the doorway now.

“How do you know?!”

“I just know, Jackie, relax. You’re not making this better,”

Jackie. Who was he? A friend? Jack pushed the thought aside. “One!” he rounded the doorway and was now looking into the dark room.

Two silhouetted figures stood at the back of the room. One figure, sitting at the side of the bed, raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, the light flicked on, and Jack blinked at the unexpected change, lowering his weaponized stapler.

Two men finally took form in the light. One wore a dark grey jumper with more illegible writing and a silly cat-faced mask. He had long brown hair, pulled up into a hasty bun, and donned a relieved smile. The other was a few years younger, wearing a dark red hoodie, and had a messy, bright green undercut. The younger’s face softened, almost tearing up at the sight of Jack.

“Told you,” the older man grunted with a smirk.

Jack looked between them with utter bewilderment, finding it hard to gather the words to question their presence. The green-haired man took his silence as a welcome to step closer to him.

“Jack, you have no idea how insane it is to see you,” he murmured slowly, as if he had just seen an old friend after being separated for years. 

Jack stared with a furrowed brow and tensed up. “Who the hell are you?” the Irishman groaned. He stepped to the side, putting distance between him and this strange man.

The young man froze, obviously taken aback by Jack’s confusion. He laughed nervously. “Come on, man, you know me! I’m your friend, Jackie!” he exclaimed, pointing to himself. “And Marvin…” Jackie trailed off, reading Jack’s face and seeing no recognition. His expression grew sad and his shoulders fell. “Do you… really not remember us?”

The older man, introduced as Marvin, interjected with a sigh. “Jackie, he’s not going to recognize us. He’s spent too long here,” he explained. Jackie turned around at him, defeated, and then looked back at Jack. 

Jack put a hand up to stop this strange exchange. “Wait, hold on,” he stuttered, his nerves peeking through. “What are you guys talking about?”

Marvin stood up with a small groan. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in a considerable span of time. He took a stance next to Jackie, looking pointedly at Jack. “Jack, we are your long-time friends. You don’t recognize us because you’ve been in a coma for two and a half years.”

Jack opened to retort about how ridiculous that sounded, but was cut off by the screeching of the kettle growing steadily louder. “Fuck, the kettle!"


	2. I Try Not To Throw My Tea At These Absolute Clowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mom, come pick me up, kids are using magic and I'm apparently in a coma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the JSE Writing Community server for helping me with writing this! Protip for the kiddies: Don't try to write when you're sleep-deprived and over-caffeinated.

Jack thundered down the stairs and into the kitchen, his ears ringing from the incessant screeching of the kettle, swearing under his breath the whole way to the stove. Marvin and Jackie followed behind and stood on the other side of the island, watching him hastily take the lid off and airing it out. The whistling quickly lowered to a halt and Jack looked over his shoulder to see his intruders standing behind him.

Marvin leaned on the counter with his elbows and took his mask off. He and Jackie stayed quiet, waiting for Jack to break the silence. Finally, after pouring the water into his readied mug, he did. 

“Alright, so I’ve been in a coma for almost three years, and somehow you’re talking to me from the outside world,” Jack summarized, turning around with his tea in his hands. “With what, magic?”

Marvin nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.” the magician shrugged. “And let me tell you, the spell was not an easy one. I was working on it for half a year after I found out it was possible.”

“Get out.”

“Wait, what?” Marvin asked, obviously taken aback by the command.

Jack glared over his mug, finishing a sip. “That’s total bullshit. Magic isn’t real, this is. Get out of my house before I call the police.” he growled. 

Jackie piped up, visibly nervous. “It’s not bullshit, Jack.” the younger man stammered. “Both Marvin and me have powers, and Marvin can use his to access other people’s minds.” His voice was weak and his arms were pulled close his chest.

“And how do I know that?” Jack retorted, keeping a tight grip on his mug, pulling it away from his lips. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Marvin pointed at the stove clock behind Jack, obviously ready to answer this question. “The time. Read me the time.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow. “What - okay, fine. It’s…” He turned around.

That’s weird. Every time he would look at the clock, the numbers would melt into each other, becoming completely unreadable. Jack tried blinking, squinting, looking away and back again - nothing would work. He turned back to Marvin with a confused look in his eyes.

“Can’t?” Marvin said, saying it more like a statement than a question. “You can’t read in your dreams, and the only way someone else in the dream could also know that is if they were from the outside world.”

Marvin looked between the two men, continuing. “Back in 2016, Henrik found you in your room. You were filming a pumpkin carving video for Halloween, but something happened. You were attacked by the demon Anti and he possessed you. Slit your throat with the knife you were using.” he explained, his face growing dark. Jackie winced next to him, obviously not wanting to hear this retelling. 

“Anti uploaded the video to your channel. Scared the entire viewer base. We tried to take it down, but every time we would delete it, it would be right back up,” Jackie continued, his eyebrows furrowed. “So we had to make a cover video and upload it immediately afterwards. Chase managed to bluff everyone by saying it was just a sketch and you were fine.”

Jack leaned his side of the counter, lowering his mug. Chase, Henrik - those two sounded extremely familiar, but Jack just couldn’t put his finger on where. His face showed he was thinking about something and he stayed silent for a few seconds. “Who are those people, those names you mentioned?” he asked suddenly, putting his mug down next to him.  
Marvin and Jackie looked between themselves with worried expressions, momentarily forgetting Jack had forgotten everyone. “Chase and Henrik are our other friends. You met both of them when you guys were in high school. Henrik is a medical student at the university, and Chase is a fellow YouTuber, like you.” Marvin said, mindlessly fidgeting with his mask. 

“And the other name? Anti?”

The two men’s faces dropped at the prospect of explaining someone like _him_. They glanced between themselves, neither of them wanting to speak. Finally, Jackie cleared his throat and sighed. “We… don’t actually know. All we know is he’s attached to us in some way and wants to either kill or control us.” he whispered, concern heavy in his tone.  
Jack nodded shortly and turned his head around, his head movements getting faster and more hysterical as he processed the new information. “Okay, okay, okay-,” he kept repeating, finally bringing his hands up to his face and patting his cheeks repeatedly. After a few more seconds, he stopped, keeping his hands on his cheeks.

“Listen, I know all this is hard to understand, trust us, it’s harder to explain--” Jackie started, putting his hands up.

Jack threw his hands above his head, picking himself off of the counter. “You bet your ass it’s hard to understand!” he interrupted, his voice suddenly loud and his Irish accent getting noticeably heavier with his stress. “I get two random intruders in my home and they tell me my entire life for the last two and a half years isn’t real, and I’ve been tormented by God-knows-what, it’s a little more than ‘hard to understand’!” He realised his voice was bouncing off the wall and Jackie had tensed up to the yelling. Jack forced himself to take a deep breath, rubbing his face hard. He just wished this was a bad dream and he would wake up in his bed like this entire night hadn’t happened, but something in the back of his might told him that this wasn’t going to be that simple. It never is with these types of stories.

The two guests stayed silent, allowing him to process the information. After a few moments, Jack let out a long sigh. “Okay, okay - say this is real and you’re not bullshitting me. Where am I now, like in real life?”

“You’re in the ICU at Royal Sussex County Hospital,” Marvin said. “No one knows what really happened, we made sure of it.” 

Jack tried to find the words in response to what he had heard. His mind was swimming with a million questions, and something in the faces of his two guests told him they knew of his confusion. How could they not? It’s not everyday you’re told you’re trapped in a coma, talking to people from outside of your own mind.

Almost a minute passed before Jack spoke again. He let out a long groan, his exhaustion returning tenfold. Marvin shifted in the corner of his eye. “So where’s Anti now?” he asked, his voice heavy. Jack relaxed against the counter again, crossing his arms.

“I’ve been tracking him the best I could since the attack,” Marvin piped up. “I can never pinpoint him, but I think he’s starting to attach to you and feeding off you. I’m assuming you’ve been feeling more tired than normal? Feeling drained, anxious?” His eyes narrowed as he listed off the questions, sounding as if he was proving a hypothesis of his.

Jack took a second. He had been feeling all of those things, but he had accredited it to overworking or not taking care of himself well enough. He nodded, rubbing his eye and stifling a yawn. “I, ah, y-yeah.” he muttered. Jack noticed his arms getting heavier and his legs getting weaker, and wondered if sleeping would help anything.

Jackie leaned back on his heels with a smirk on his face, turning to Marvin. “I bet the spell you’re casting isn’t making him feel better,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Isn’t that what you said before we got here? That you’ll also have to pull from his own energy to make contact?” 

Marvin smacked the other on the bicep, trying to hide his own amusement. “Alright, I get it, you overcharged battery.” he groaned, looking at his wristwatch and wincing a bit. “The nurse will be here in a few minutes to refill your fluids, so we need to head out,” he said, turning back to Jack. “I’ll get back in contact soon. I’ll put up some wards on the other side so you can rest.”

Jack straightened himself, stretching a hand to stop them. “Hey, wait, I still have questions! How will I know when you’re back?” he exclaimed, starting to round the island.

“You’ll know, don’t worry!”

And with that, the two men were gone in a flash of light, making Jack recoil. He shook himself out of his daze and looked around his dim kitchen. All alone again. Jack groaned a curse on the two mens’ names and slumped across the counter. All of this sounded too crazy to be real and he was too drained of energy to process it all. He figured nothing was going to happen if he just stayed up and stressed about it, so he picked himself up from the counter and hobbled up the stairs to bed. 

Jack didn’t even bother turning the light off behind him as he threw himself onto his bed, laying on his stomach. He used the last of his waking strength to free his hair from its hair tie and threw the band somewhere off the bed without looking where it landed. As Jack began to drift off, a strange warmth flooded over him - even though he didn’t cover himself with the blankets - and he relaxed into it, too tired to question the sudden feeling. 


	3. At This Point, I'd Believe It.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demonic possession and disembodied eyeballs. What else ya got, huh? [TW: WEAPONS, SELF HARM DESCRIPTION, AND BLOOD.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to @novelistgeek for helping with editing! They're an absolute legend and I owe them my life.

Consciousness washed over Jack in head-throbbing waves. His head was pounding a dull rhythm and it took all his self-control to not sink back into his bed. He raised his hand to his forehead and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Memories of the previous night flooded back into his mind; the two strange visitors, the kettle, his apparent coma. Jack wanted to believe all of last night was a dream, but the pit in his gut told him it was as real as could be.

Afternoon sunlight filtered into the bedroom and Jack squinted, his head rolled to the side. He swung his hand up and over to his bedside drawer and patted around for his phone, though he didn’t find it. Jack pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked around. That’s odd, he always plugged his phone in before bed. He must have forgotten it downstairs after his visitors disappeared. He cursed his carelessness and swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing himself to a standing position. He swiftly moved out of his room, made a pit stop at his bathroom to wash up, and then headed downstairs for his coffee.

As the kitchen came into view, Jack spotted his phone face down on the counter, next to his still full mug of tea from the previous night. He picked his phone up and quickly pocketed it, picking up the mug with his other hand and pouting as he poured the cold liquid down the sink. He really needed to stop wasting tea. Jack deposited the empty mug in the sink and got a new one from the cupboard.

“Alexa, good morning,” he announced, preparing a fresh pot of coffee. The pillar device in the corner of his kitchen counter came to life with a soft  _ ding _ ! 

“Good morning, Jack. Today, the weather is expected to stay mostly sunny all day. On the news--” Alexa’s cheerful tone quickly contorted into glitched screeching, like digitized nails being dragged on a digital chalkboard. The usual blue ring glowing on the top had quickly changed into a sporadic blinking red, seemingly spelling out words in morse code that Jack couldn’t understand. Jack’s heart lurched, nearly spilling his pot of water and quickly spinning towards the device.

“Alexa, stop! Stop!” Jack shouted, his voice nearly being drowned out by the incessant screeching. Finally, the AI gave up and fell silent, turning itself back off. The Irishman backed up, narrow eyes locked on the device. He opened his mouth to try his morning routine again, but decided against it and sighed. Still, he couldn’t handle silence.

“Alexa, play some music,” he commanded, side-eyeing the device with suspicion, waiting for it to glitch out again.

“Okay! Playing ‘Jack’s Tracks’ now,” Alexa said cheerfully. There was a slight pause before a soft baseline played, followed by Hozier’s soft vocals. Jack nodded to the beat, mouthing along to the lyrics as he waited for his coffee to finish.

The coffee machine sounded off a triumphant tune and Jack pulled the pot out of the machine, pouring the brown liquid into his prepared mug. He ordered Alexa to pause the music, turning around and walking up to his recording room.

Jack flicked the lights on and closed the door behind him with his foot. He put his mug down next to a notebook on his desk, sitting down and booting up his PC. The computer came to life quickly, and once he logged in, he found the game he was playing yesterday still active. He sighed, finding the X button and shutting the game down. He wasn’t feeling up to playing any games right now, surprisingly. He was more interested in his channel, and if his strange visitors had any truth to their words. Jack launched Google Chrome, guiding his cursor to the white URL bar at the top and…

He froze, fingers hovering over his keyboard. The letters on the keys looked foggy, as if they were mixing with different letters entirely. How was he supposed to type if he couldn’t read what he was typing? Frustration began building but he forced himself to breathe and put his fingers on the keyboard, hoping for whatever muscle memory he had to take over.

Jack’s fingers tapped away, inputting letters he couldn’t read. Once he felt it was enough, he clicked what he thought was the Enter key. The browser loaded, pulling up what he recognized as his Youtube channel. His bright green banner bounced in place on the screen and he had to blink to continue focusing on it. For some reason, his icon jumped out in alarming detail, so much so that he felt that the Septic Eye was really watching him. Jack pulled his attention from it and scrolled down.

The page quickly filled up with videos, posted as early as just a couple hours ago. Jack’s stomach twisted as he focused on each thumbnail. He had no memory of uploading any of these videos. Was that Minecraft in a few of them? He scrolled back up.Maybe he was on the wrong channel.

No, that was his iconic banner. This was his channel, but it was full of videos he had never published. Who was uploading them for him? He tried to remember what he was originally looking for, pushing the mysterious uploader to the back of his mind.

“JackSepticEye… pumpkin carving… video,” he mumbled to himself, willing his fingers to type what he wanted. Jack clicked the Enter button and another webpage loaded, this time a long list of videos he had no interest in. The first one, however, made his heart drop. A vivid orange and yellow pumpkin, sitting on a table with a knife stabbed into it. That had to be the one he was looking for. Jack clicked on the video.

Jack jumped as his intro blasted in the speaker, a hard ‘WHAPISH!’ echoing around his room. He quickly turned down the volume, watching his younger self energetically introduce the video. “Top of the morning to ya laddies, my name is JackSepticEye and welcome back,” the Jack in the video exclaimed, waving a large pumpkin in the air. “To carvin’ pumpkins!”

He had a fleeting memory of filming this video. He still had his emerald green hair and he cringed at how awkward it looked. Jack clicked along the red progress bar, trying to find the part that Marvin had mentioned. Young Jack skipped about on the screen, making more and more progress on his pumpkin. He was over nine and a half minutes in and nothing had happened that he could pick out, so he decided to just let the video play.   
“Last one… last one,” the Jack in the video grunted, turning the pumpkin towards the screen. “Did it work? Is-uh, is your mouth gonna come out?” He stood up, pushing on the inside of the pumpkin. “Come on - yeah!”

He made little triumphant giggles and plopped back down, the pumpkin’s mouth cleared out now. “It worked, yay! Now I have to wipe off all the - the marker off. Because when you can see the outline, and then you see where I didn’t follow - it looks  _ stupid! _ ” he exclaimed, picking up a Clorox wipe and wiping off the excess marker lines off the pumpkin’s face. Jack smiled and shook his head. Back then, he was always determined to fill the silence, always wanting to talk in every second. “You gotta just see the pumpkin for what it is.”

The video cut, Young Jack showing the camera his wonderful creation. “TA-DA! It came out really well! Does your head still fit on? I hope so.” He plopped the stem of the pumpkin on the top. “Yay! He’s a fully formed pumpkin!”

For some reason, a pit formed in Jack’s stomach, as if deep inside he knew what was about to happen next. His palms began to sweat and his fingers started to twitch.

His younger self picked up one of his knives, turning the pumpkin so both he and the camera could see it. “Okay! So, the last thing you wanna do is get your knife and you’re gonna have to do fine-” He suddenly cut off, static growing in the background. The video jerked and glitched, and Young Jack slowly put the pumpkin down and looked up with cold, blank eyes. The boy raised his knife to his throat and glided it across, as if someone was controlling his body. Jack recoiled, watching himself slit his own throat, his body quickly switching between a dying expression and one of pure ecstasy. Young Jack finished his cut and dropped onto his pumpkin, lifeless. 

Jack sat in horror as he watched his near-dead body. Blood started to drip down the pumpkin’s face. At some point, Jack’s hands had traveled up, one holding on his neck and the other sitting over his mouth, yet he couldn’t place when.   
Suddenly, the video glitched wildly, the body rising and reaching towards the camera, cackling madly. Jack jumped back, covering his ears. The laughing seemed to come from all corners of the room, suffocating him like a bad memory. The cackles finally stopped and Young Jack’s body was hunched over the pumpkin, giggling softly. This was it. This was that entity Marvin and Jackie mentioned.

“You…”  
This was Anti.  
“HIS BODY WAS WEAK!” Anti growled, throwing up his knife threateningly at the camera. “You all said my name. Kept me -_ I AM HERE NOW_.”

Jack watched on as the demonic entity toyed with his dying body like a puppet, his vision blurring at the corners. Anti continued ranting, the video growing more and more corrupted the longer it went. Finally, the video cut to black with a final giggle.

“Say goodbye.”

The video ended. Jack sat frozen with wide eyes and caught himself beginning to hyperventilate. He clenched down on his desk to steady himself. He couldn’t believe this.  _ He couldn’t believe this!  _ This had to be fake, a sick joke, but too many things began to click. He scrolled back along the video to rewatch the segment as bile started to rise in his throat.

Anti’s monologue bore into his mind and it seemed to continue even after the scene ended. Panicky tears threatened to gather at his eyes but he blinked them away. Marvin was right, Jack really was possessed and nearly killed by this… thing! Jack found his hand holding his neck gently, as if trying to stop it from splitting. 

A shuffle from the other side of the door broke Jack out of his panic, directing his anxiety at something new. He pulled himself away from the computer and watched the door, expecting the noise to happen again. Sure enough, there was a soft knock, as if something soft brushed against it.

“Marvin? Is that you?” Jack called out, standing up. “You can come in.”

A small pause and the knocking resumed, a little faster this time. Jack groaned and took a step towards the door. “Dude, just open the door,” he said, putting a hand on the doorknob. Now that he was standing right at the door, he could hear a soft yet urgent squeaking coming from whatever was on the other side, coupled with comical “whapish!” sounds. He furrowed his eyebrows and slowly opened the door. “Marvin, dude-”

Jack was cut off by the door swinging open past him by an unexpected force, a chirping green blur whizzing inside and past his head. He ducked and stumbled backward. Turning around, he was met with a floating green eyeball with a sea blue iris, floating just above eye level and chirping excitedly. The thing couldn’t be bigger than his palm, maybe an inch or two bigger than a human eyeball. It inched closer and Jack took a quick step backward, swinging his hand. The smack connected, sending the creature flying away from him with a pained squeak. The eyeball landed on the desk, its tail-like optical nerve twitching.

The Irishman took a step toward the creature, watching it with trepidation. He leaned over and grabbed his notebook next to it, holding it up in case the eyeball moved. What the fuck was this thing? Its sclera was vivid emerald green, definitely not a healthy color for what looked like a disembodied eyeball.

Just before Jack moved to poke it, the thing twitched, rolling (upright?) and beeped at him. Instinctively, he swung the notebook down on it, earning another squeak of pain.

“Jack, the fuck are you doing? Did you just smack Sam?” a familiar voice scolded. Jack blinked and lifted the book from the dazed creature.

“Marvin?”

“Who else would it be? God?” Marvin sneered, his voice rising from the eyeball.

Jack rolled his eyes at the quip. “Did you turn yourself into an eyeball?”

“What? No. You don’t remember Sam either? He was, like, your best friend.”

Jack shook his head, though he had a feeling Marvin couldn’t see him. “I guess not, no.” He reached down and carefully picked the eyeball up, setting it in his hand. The creature recovered from the second hit and looked up at Jack with an acknowledging beep.

Marvin sighed. “That’s kind of depressing,” he noted. “Well, re-meet Sam. He’s my familiar I summoned when I began taking my magic seriously. I sent him in to give you a bit of companionship. That, and he was becoming really depressed without you around.”

Sam rose up and floated just above Jack’s hand as Marvin explained, emitting a soft purring sound. Jack’s face squished in disbelief. “Wait, you’re saying this thing was in the real world?” he repeated.

Jack could hear Marvin snicker. “Of course he was. You two were inseparable, even though he belonged to me. Look at your channel, he’s all over it.”

He glanced over to his desktop, growing blurry with the distance. Sure enough, there he was in the profile picture and the banner, an identical logo to the creature before him. 

Marvin took Jack’s silence as a point proven. “Back when you started the channel, you just had a graphic of your face as your profile picture. When I summoned Sam and he started warming up to you, you decided to stylize your brand after him. He even barged in while you were recording, but you edited that part out to make sure he stayed a secret.

“Anyway, I let him into your mindscape to make sure you weren’t alone. He’ll alert me if anything happens and I’ll be able to jump in and help,” Marvin finished, giving Jack time to process everything. 

Jack sighed, rubbing his face. At this point, it wasn’t far from the realm of believably. He huffed and, pulling his hand up to the top of his head, fidgeted with his ponytail. “I… Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t thank me. Just focus on keeping your sanity while we find a way to break you out of your coma,” the magician laughed, a smile betraying his voice. “I need to go now. I’ll check in on you as soon as I can.”

Jack sighed and flopped onto his chair. Sam lowered himself and hovered just above Jack’s keyboard, purring softly. The YouTuber sighed, extending a finger to the little creature. “Sorry about smacking you, little guy. No hard feelings?” he asked, giving an embarrassed smile.

Sam beeped cheerfully, wrapping his tail around Jack’s finger as if to shake it. Jack hummed, feeling a sense of familiarity with the creature, and invited him to rest on his shoulder before turning back to his monitor to browse his new YouTube channel.


	4. Something Isn't Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin just can't catch a break, can he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Thought Contagion has turned into a collaboration with @novelistgeek! This means updates will be a little more often, and the plot becoming richer with another perspective looking at it. I'm super super excited to be working with them, I haven't been able to shut up about it since they agreed to co-write with me. Anyway, enjoy!

Marvin rubbed his face with one of his hands, guiding it up to his hair and scratching his scalp. With his other hand, he twirled a pen in between his fingers. Writing new spells was always a pain, more so now than ever. This spell had to be perfect if it was going to pull his friend out of his unnatural coma, yet he had no way to test the spell on him without putting his life on the line more than it already was. He glanced up at his alarm clock on his desk. 5:47 am. When was the last time he’d slept?

Marvin’s thoughts were interrupted by a sheepish knock at his door. “Come in,” the magician called out. His green-headed roommate opened the door slowly and poked his head in, smiling nervously.

“Bad time?” the friend asked, sliding his way into the room. His striking blue eyes popped out in the dim light, furrowed in concern and he held a plate of “food” in his hands.

Marvin shook his head, spinning his swivel chair to look at him. “Ah, no, you’re fine Jackie.” He sighed and placed his pen down on his notebook. “Did you just get back from patrol?”

Jackie nodded. “Yeah, about thirty minutes ago. I would have gotten home earlier but there was a kid on Brodney Street who wanted me to sit with them,” he explained quickly. Marvin smiled a little, feeling a quick pang of pride for his friend. “And I’m assuming you couldn’t sleep again?” he continued.

“Uh, no. No, not really,” Marvin stammered. He brought his hand to his eye and rubbed it. “I’m just trying to get this part of the spell down. We made contact, so I can’t be too far off from getting him out,” he explained, waving his hands as he spoke. The magician shoved his index on the pages of his notebook, jabbing it with a mix of determination and frustration. “The only thing going against me is this isn’t a spell I can test, and a few of the parts just fizzle out!”  
Jackie put one of his hands on his hips as he listened to his roommate ramble on. Jackie’s powers and Marvin’s magic never overlapped, so whenever Marvin would rant about his spells and rituals, it would sound like Greek to the vigilante (and sometimes it actually was Greek), but it seemed to help the magician get his thoughts out so he can think better.

“I just feel like we’re so close to getting our friend back, I…” Marvin trailed off, his shoulders falling with exhaustion. Jackie sighed and took a step towards him, putting his hand on his shoulder.  
“Marv, when’s the last time you ate? Or slept?” he asked solemnly.

“Uh… somewhere in the ‘last week’ range.” Marvin shrugged.

Jackie plopped the plate of food in front of his friend, right in the way of his notebook. Marvin’s nose scrunched up at the smell of whatever was on the plate. “What is this?” he groaned.

“It  _ was _ scrambled eggs and crepes,” Jackie replied defensively.

“Did you put  _ sugar _ on the eggs?”

“I got the idea from my friend! It’s actually pretty good.”

“These aren’t crepes, these are depressed pancakes.”

Jackie pouted, leaning back on his heel and folding his arms. Marvin smirked and picked up the fork, poking at the sad remains of his breakfast. “Listen, man. You need to take care of yourself. How do you expect to save Jack if you're starving and exhausted?” he asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.

Marvin’s shoulders slumped, defeated. “I know. I guess I can take a break,” he sighed, wearily taking a bite of his food. It took all of his willpower to not recoil at the too-strong taste of the eggs as to not offend Jackie. He was rightfully concerned and while Marvin knew he was probably overworking himself, he just couldn’t let himself rest. Not when he was so close to finally saving Jack.

Jackie put his hand on Marvin’s shoulder and squeezed, smiling sadly as if he could read the other’s mind. “It’ll be okay, Marv. You’ll make a magical breakthrough and finally pull Jack out of his coma,” the boy mused. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Marvin placed a hand on Jackie’s, patting it. He had forgotten how hungry he was, and though the food was atrocious, he couldn’t stop himself from shoveling it down. 

A ping from the magician’s phone broke the silence. Marvin pulled his hand away and grabbed his phone, disconnecting it from its charger. There was a text message from Jameson, and as Marvin read it, his heart plummeted. 

Jackie pulled his hand away as he watched his friend’s face drop. “What is it?”

“It’s Jamie. He says there’s something wrong with Jack,” he relayed, his voice now solemn. Marvin started typing a reply but huffed and pressed the call button. He clicked the speaker and held it up. The two men held their breath waiting for their friend to pick up.

After what felt like an eternity, the ringing finally stopped. A soft tongue click sounded, Jameson’s signature way of answering the phone. “Jams, is Henrik with you?” Marvin breathed, struggling to keep his voice even. 

Henrik’s harsh, accented voice answered him, clearly exasperated. “Yes, I am and you need to get over here  _ now _ ,” the German growled.

“What’s going on?” Marvin was already standing up and grabbing his jacket from the corner of his bed. Jackie was behind him, standing up and fidgeting with his fingers.

“I don’t know! The heart monitor is glitching, Jack’s eyes keep twitching rapidly, his vitals keep violently fluctuating -  _ Sche _ _ i _ _ ße! _ - and none of the nurses are coming to help,” Henrik groaned. Marvin and Jackie glanced up at each other wordlessly, their faces heavy with concern. 

“Okay, I’ll be there in just a second,” Marvin said. He shrugged his jacket on and pushed his feet into a pair of slippers. With a final grunt from the other side of the phone, Marvin hung up and cleared his throat. The emergency sparked an adrenaline rush and he found himself totally awake now. He put his hand up and breathed, gold sparks gathering at his fingertips. “Jack’s room,” the magician commanded. A small blast of warm light shot out from his hand and stopped just a few feet in front of him, finally growing into a large portal that stretched a few inches taller than himself. Marvin stepped in without a word.

“Oi, wait for me!” Jackie called after his friend, racing into the portal behind him. Just as the vigilante’s foot passed through the portal, the magic faltered and the portal closed.

The overpowering clean smell of the ICU invaded Marvin and Jackie’s noses, making them recoil. Henrik and Jameson stood a couple yards away from them, hunched over the hospital bed holding their comatose friend. Marvin swiftly stepped towards them, his footsteps announcing their arrival. Jackie followed close behind, walking to the opposite side of the bed.

Henrik looked up at Marvin behind him and then back to the heart monitor, which had seemingly returned to normal. He looked clearly disheveled, as if he had just woken up. He didn’t even have his glasses on and was squinting at the screen.

“I don’t know what happened. Jameson just woke me up and the heart monitor was going crazy,” he tried explaining, backing up so Marvin could get a good look at his friend. Jameson sat in the chair next to him with a hand on the pristine white sheets, looking up nervously at the magician.

“Jamie, what did the heart monitor look like when it started glitching?” Marvin asked, side-glancing his mute friend.

“ _ It didn’t look like anything at first, just illegible text and random squiggles,” _ Jameson started, his hands shaking, almost making his signs unable to be read.  _ “But for a split second, the glitches formed one of those sideways smiley faces.” _ His face sank as he pulled his hands close to his chest. 

Marvin swallowed and mindlessly scratched his scalp. He knew the demon would show his face at one point, there’s no way he wouldn’t, but he never would have expected it to be so soon after making contact. He breathed and concentrated, attempting to connect to his familiar. His mind filled with burning static and he could hear Sam’s panicked chirping echoing back to him, barely louder than a whisper. Marvin willed himself to hold the connection as tight as he could, but it was just out of his reach, almost taunting him. He growled and pulled up a chair, gathering his hair in a messy bun.

“Someone close the door,” the magician ordered, sitting down and keeping his gaze on Jack. Henrik moved swiftly to the door, closing it with a click. Marvin took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself enough to cast his spell.

The three men watched with hitched breath as Marvin carefully pressed his right thumb against Jack’s forehead and the left thumb just over his heart. The shallow beating of the other’s heart made Marvin’s skin shiver, but he closed his eyes and tried to ignore it. His magic gathered at his thumbs, growing warmer and warmer, coaxing Jack’s mind open. There was a thick layer of violent, heavy static covering his soul and the magician struggled to break through it. One more push, however, and he fell into his friend’s consciousness, the room around him melting from his awareness.


	5. And the Fun Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jack, man. He was just trying to have a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is my first chapter collabing with Coma so I hope y'all like it ^^ -Nove

The first thing Jack noticed was when the door at the end of the hall opened.

He’d never really thought about it but it was always closed. He’d remembered (or maybe assumed) that it was just full of coats or something for weather that wasn’t happening yet and had never bothered to try it.

But now it was open.

Sam floated over with a quiet beep and booped Jack’s nose gently with his tail before moving in a circle around his head.

Jack smiled and patted the top of Sam gently before asking, “Do you think I should check it out, Sam?”

Sam squeaked softly and settled down on Jack’s shoulder, wrapping his tail around Jack’s neck.

Jack sighed, quietly pushed himself up, and grabbed his phone from the desk. He looked back at his computer, blurred letters still swimming in front of his eyes, and took in a quiet breath before walking towards the door leading out of his den.

As he exited into the hallway, he tried to click on the hallway light. It flickered, flashing red for a couple of seconds, before flicking off.

He groaned. “...Fuck’s sake-” He turned the flashlight on his phone on, shining a dim light down the empty corridor. The door made a soft creaking sound as an air current brushed along the ground. A soft wave of anxiety crept up his back as he stared into the black void of his hallway, a soft glow of red coming from underneath the door offsetting some of the darkness. Sam nudged against the side of his neck gently and Jack sighed before starting off down it.

As he walked along, he trailed his flashlight across the pictures hanging on the walls. Most of them were art, things he’d picked up at one store or another; the ones nearer the end were photographs of him and his friends that he didn’t exactly remember putting up but he must’ve at some point, right?

As his eye caught on something in a photo, he slowed to a stop. He walked over to it cautiously, his fingers tightening on the glass front of his phone.

It looked the same as what he remembered...mostly. Tall green grass took up the bottom part of the picture, moving out of the way for him and his brother, probably a couple of years ago, waving at one of his friends. The sun pushed against the lens, smearing some of the details at the edges.

...But he hadn’t remembered his eyes being so dark.

If there was one thing he normally noticed about himself in a picture, it was how his eyes caught the light. It would move along the spectrum between blue and gray, catching the sun some days, the clouds others. But this...They looked nearly black.

Jack squinted and leaned in, pivoting the flashlight so it shone onto the section of the photograph where he was.

As his eyes refocused, he traced his finger along the eyes absentmindedly. Yep, they were black. Maybe it was a printing error? Though, he didn’t remember it looking like this when he put it u-

The door at the end of the hall creaked, pushing open. The red glow was more obvious now, though he couldn’t exactly tell where it was coming from.

He looked back at the picture. With each passing moment, it seemed to look more and more contorted: the smile on his face twisting, the entire image slowly draining of color.

Jack slowly reached forward and touched the photo but it melted into shadows in hands, revealing a hole in the wall. The hole was about the size of a camera lens

He sighed, feeling all of the bad horror tropes seeping up on him right now, leaned forward, and looked into the hole carefully.

Static seeped up the edges of his vision, making everything in front of him seem blurry. He blinked irritably before managing to make out what seemed to be a hospital room. A comatose body lay in a bed, which was surrounded by four people. Two of them seemed to be pacing, a third had his eyes closed, mouth moving silently as he murmured something, and a fourth was staring up at a screen with lines riding up and down, up and down.

As Jack squinted more, he managed to make out the first two as Jackie and someone else he didn’t exactly recognize. He moved his hands nervously, seeming like he was trying to craft silent sentences with them. Every now and then, he’d walk up the edge of the bed and gently press his hand against the banister along the bed.

The third was Marvin. Jack’s gaze really blurred when he tried to look at him but he could see the soft glow of magic wafting through the air around him.

The fourth was a doctor. He was tapping his finger nervously against his arm, his gaze glued to the screens connected to the patient.

Jack hesitated but he redirected his attention to the patient, who he realized...must be him.

His skin was pale, breath shallow, but he looked well taken care of. Clips and wires bloomed off of his skin, connecting to the many screens around the bed. A steady rhythm tapped its way across the connections.

Jack felt a pulse rocket down his spine. The camera lens began to get more and more blurry, filling with purple. Sam squeaked and tried to tug Jack back but he just bapped him gently, focusing as much as he could on what he was seeing.

Marvin reached down, pressed one thumb against Jack’s head and the other against his heart and-

Suddenly, Jack was in darkness.

He looked down and only saw the void around him. Nausea rose up his spine and he did his best to breathe, panic flashing through his mind in startling spurts.

With a crackle, Marvin appeared across from him. Once their eyes met, a wary smile crept across his face and he took a couple steps forward.

“Jack!” He didn’t seem to realize the lack of, well...anything, besides the two of them. “Are you...are you alright?”

Jack tried to talk but his words seemed swallowed by the sickening feeling growing in his throat. He merely shook his head.

Marvin nodded and continued, “Have you noticed anything changing around you? Like...things disappearing or reappearing. Opening and closing?”

Jack tried to nod but he could feel his thoughts starting to fuzz over and he shut his eyes tightly.

Was he really sure that door wasn’t open before? It wasn’t like he checked it often. Maybe he’d just forgotten. He couldn’t...know for sure, right?

He forced his eyes open and looked blearily at Marvin. “...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The air around them started to spark and glitch but Marvin seemed to pay it no mind. “What does that mean?”

Jack just shrugged.

Marvin blinked and, for a moment, his eyes flashed to green. He sighed impatiently and walked closer to Jack. When he started talking again, Jack heard his voice in layers, a higher voice speaking over Marvin’s normal one. “I can’t help you if you don’t _talk to me_.” He reached forward and grabbed Jack’s wrist tightly.

Jack tried to pull back but this only caused Marvin’s grip to tighten, small sparks of purple magic starting to float out from in between his fingers. “I am!”

The walls started to bend and break, the floor at their feet melting into quicksand. Marvin pulled back, magic forming into a nuclear ball in his hands, sparking outwards through the air.

Jack stared at him in confusion for a moment but stumbled back when the magic exploded out towards him.

He felt it start to burn at his skin and then the floor gave out beneath him, the darkness swallowing him up.


	6. That's Gonna Leave A Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be careful with exploring nightmarish dreamscapes, you might walk in on something you really wish you hadn'̶t̕.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [CW: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, SELF-HARM, AND BODY HORROR. PLEASE BE SAFE WHILE READING THIS CHAPTER.]

**** Jack’s entire body throbbed as he came to, an overwhelming ache paralyzing him. The feeling of quick forceful bumps against his chest startled him, bringing him back to awareness. He groaned and his eyes flickered open, his surroundings blurring and melting together. The sound of panicked chirping slowly replaced the ringing sound in his ears and he pushed himself up to a sitting position, blinking rapidly. 

Sam floated just a few inches away, squeaking a little quieter now but still looking up at him with a worried blue iris. Jack rubbed his head, trying to will his migraine away. The memory of what happened just before passing out flooded back into him and his stomach twisted. Why the hell did Marvin switch like that so suddenly? Why did he attack him?  _ What the absolute bloody hell was happening? _

His wandering thoughts screeched to a halt when he began taking in his surroundings. The room he awoke in resembled his sitting room in his house, but the whole room was doused in a haunting red glow. All the furniture seemed situated in ways they really ought not to be; tables were hanging off the walls, chairs clipped through the floor and stuck out of the ceiling, the photos and wall decor seemed to be scratched out with thick black ink. Jack’s skin crawled as his wide eyes scanned across this nightmare of a room.

“Oh, fuck this,” he whispered slowly, tensing up. He grunted as he wobbled up to a standing position. Sam followed him up, hovering at about shoulder-height with soft, cautious purring. Jack hesitated, trying to comprehend his surroundings. Finally, he looked at Sam with a forced smile.

“Might as well explore this hellhole, huh?” Jack asked, trying to keep his tone light to assure his companion. Sam gave a low beep in response, his optic nerve twisting around him anxiously.

Jack sighed, starting down the hallway slowly with Sam following close behind. Between the kitchen and the sitting room stood a low coffee table, leaning impossibly between the floor and the corner of the wall. On it stood a modern black lamp and a few framed photos, each of him and a couple of his friends. Jack reached under the lamp cover and tried turning it on. Two flicks of the coil and the lightbulb flickered bright red before combusting in a violent explosion of sparks. He recoiled, his hands jumping to his face. Sam squeaked in shock, flicking his optic nerve on Jack’s shoulder.

“Fucking christ,” he growled under his breath, patting the sparks off of his arms. Jack debated trying the lamp again, but decided he didn’t want to get another spark bath, instead turning his attention to the framed photos sitting in front of it. He picked one up and pulled it close to his face, squinting. He could barely see anything in the dim light, but he focused as hard as he could on the details. 

The one in his hands, he realized, was of him and a friend. They were smiling, the sun shining on their faces. The friend was raising a glass soda bottle into the air as if they were toasting something, their flatbill hat falling off their head. The Jack in the photo was laughing, holding his friend’s arm around their shoulder. Jack racked his brain, trying hard to remember who the other person in the photo was, but every time he focused on it, his brain would fill with a buzzing static. Behind him, Sam purred and shifted in the air, making a small  _ ‘bang!’  _ noise. Jack glanced back at his companion and sighed, putting the photo back on the table and moving on.

The hallway was almost blocked with several bits of furniture in the way, sticking out of the walls this way and that, and Jack hesitated before bending his way around a chair standing sideways on the wall. Sam followed suit, making sure to stay close to his shoulder. The stairway was just to his right, a bright light seemingly collecting at the top. Every fiber of Jack’s being screamed at him to turn back, to not continue exploring, but he ignored the urges with a hard swallow. He started slowly up the twisted steps of the stairs.

“You gotta just see the pumpkin for what it is!”

Jack froze, halfway up the stairs now. His entire chest felt cold and he could almost hear his blood rushing in his ears. The voice from upstairs sounded just like his own, but layered several times over. It crawled up his spine in all the wrong ways.

Sam chirped nervously, pressing into Jack’s shoulder. He raised his hand up and held the little eyeball to comfort him, willing his own heart to stop beating like an unsteady metronome.

“Don’t worry, buddy, it’ll be okay,” he sighed with a nervous smile. Sam looked back at him, almost shaking. Jack forced himself to take a deep, long breath and continued up the haphazard stairs.

The end of the upstairs hallway was empty. The doors to his bedroom and bathroom were replaced with unnatural stacks of furniture. The only door that remained was the one to his recording office and it stood slightly ajar, the same chilling red glow spilling out of the room. Jack slowed his pace just as he reached the doorframe, trying his best not to show himself.

“Yay! He’s a fully formed pumpkin!” the twisted voice exclaimed, sounding like a skipping CD would if it were possessed by demons. Jack wiggled his hands, trying to clear the sweat from his palms. 

Sam let out the tiniest squeak he could manage, his tail hooking under the collar of Jack’s shirt and pulling it away from the door with urgency. Jack threw up a finger to tell his companion to quiet down. He tiptoed slowly closer and peeked his head around the doorframe, looking inside.

As expected, the room was arranged in the same nightmarish fashion as the rest of the house. The desk sat casually on the ceiling, his desktop and monitor glued to its surface. A lamp was clipping through the wall, pouring an almost blinding red light into his eyes. In the middle of the room, sitting at a table and facing a camera, was a figure, their back turned to the door. He peered in closer. The figure was wearing a black shirt and their hair was two-tone in the bright light. Jack’s stomach twisted and he clenched his fists.

It was himself from three years ago, filming what appeared to be the pumpkin carving video that sealed his fate.

Jack held his breath, praying this copy of him wouldn’t hear him. “Okay! So the last thing you wanna do is get your knife,” his dӧppelganger explained cheerfully, toying around with what appeared to be the pumpkin. His voice twisted around Jack’s ears and sent a chill down his spine. Behind him, Sam tugged on Jack’s shirt again, growing more and more frantic with his pulls, but the YouTuber was too entranced with his chilling copy.

The other Jack twitched as he continued. “Get your knife and you’re gonna have to give up, don’t fight it,” he suggested, rather nonchalantly. Jack stared bewildered, leaning just a little further in the doorway. That wasn’t in the video, he was sure.

“What?” he whispered as quietly as he could.

Jack regretted that decision  _ immediately _ .

The double put the pumpkin down calmly, staring right into the camera and gripping the knife in his hand with intent. Jack hadn’t even realized he had his own hand clasped over his mouth. “I said,” the copy sighed. Jack was frozen solid with fear, unable to pull away. At this point, he didn’t even notice Sam’s panicked bumps and tugs to his back. The copy slowly raised the knife to his throat, making sure to drag out every second.

**“Give. Up.”**

In an instant, the copy’s neck snapped backward unnaturally, the crack of his bones ringing off the walls. His head hung from his shoulders and his mouth was contorted into a smile too wide for a human to possibly make. His eyes were pitch black and streams of thick black ooze trailed down his cheeks. Jack’s scream was caught in his throat and he toppled backward against the wall. He scrambled up, trying to will his feet to move, to no avail.

With agonizing slowness, the other Jack drew the knife across his throat, blood gushing out onto the pumpkin in front of him. A sharp pulse spread across the real Jack’s own neck until the pain grew into an unbearable presence, tearing down his spine, through his bones, and into his feet. He would have screamed, but his mouth quickly filled with thick, heavy blood. He choked and fell back to his knees, one hand drifting up to his mouth and the other to his aching neck. The hand covering his neck became drenched in his blood, and when he pulled it away, the fluid almost looked black. His vision began to blur and an overwhelming dizziness overtook him as he looked back to his double.

Jack watched with waning consciousness as it completed its torture, its arm falling limp and the knife falling to the floor. It continued to look at him with that taunting, demonic smile and wide void-like eyes, even in death. Time slowed to a near halt as blood loss began to take him and his arms grew weak. He blinked, using the last of his strength to reach out to his panicked companion.

Finally, he slumped to the floor, the blood from his neck pouring out and drenching the carpet under him.

Then, he was still.


	7. The Doctor Will See You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets a visit from the doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [cw: slight body horror, threat of medical malpractice]

_ Beep, beep, beep. _

Fuck.

_ Beep, beep, beep. _

Everything hurts. 

_ Beep, beep, beep. _

Jack blearily dragged his eyes open, taking in as much of the room around him as he could with his swimming vision. The mind rending beep echoed around the white room, cascading down the empty walls around him. He pulled his eyes over to the machine above him, recording his increasingly unsteady heartbeat, riding waves of green across a background of black. 

After a moment, he pulled himself up with a groan, trying to ignore the pulsing pain crashing through his body. He shivered as the feeling of wires crawling along his skin pushed into his consciousness, just as the static in his ears died down for a moment and he noticed an insistent beeping and dull pounding from a glass tank sitting on the opposite side of the room. 

Sam floated in green liquid, his iris flooded with intense worry. As he saw Jack sit up, albeit slowly and with pain, he chirped brightly and swam in a little happy circle. Jack groaned in response, attempting to drag his hand through his hair, only to be stopped by a couple wires. He trailed his eyes along them, trying to figure out what they were connected to before gently tugging the glue holding them down off and pushing himself up. 

As he reached his full height, the pulsing in his neck reached a new high and he gritted his teeth, his hand flying up to it. His fingers met his neck and he shuddered, the pain only increasing. The feeling of cut and damp skin started to run a circle through his mind before he was snapped back out of it by the sound of Sam headbutting against the glass. He stumbled forward, catching himself on a cart, and ended up at the desk. 

He dug through some of the drawers, grabbing every single key he came across, and then made his way over to the tank, going through all the keys until he found the right one. Once the lock was unlatched, he carefully pulled open the top and Sam spun out, beeping excitedly. Jack shushed him and he quieted down, floating over and settling back down on his shoulder. 

With that settled, Jack scanned the room again, looking mostly for items for his neck. He noticed a roll of gauze and some tape sitting on a counter across the room. Perfect! 

He cut off a sizeable amount, wrapped it around his neck, trying not to wince at the uncomfortable feeling of it rubbing against the cut, and taped it up. He took a moment to flop down on a chair next to the desk and sighed, before looking over at Sam. “Do you know where we are, buddy?”

Sam chirped and made a heartbeat sound. 

Jack blinked and stared at him. “Alriiight-” He looked back around the room. “Well...this looks like a hospital room? Though, it was really the machine and all the wires that tipped me off.” 

Sam made a quiet _ merp _ sound and buried himself in Jack’s hood. 

Jack sighed in response, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Why is it always a hospital? 

Lights flickered on and off outside in the hallway, pushing in underneath the door. Jack blinked and stood up quickly as Sam buried himself deeper into his hoodie. 

He looked around quickly before the door swung open, revealing a tall man with short brown hair and a medical mask pulled over the bottom half of his face. He flipped through a couple of pages before looking up at Jack. “Are you Mr. McLoughlin?” 

“I, uh- Yes?” A lost memory itched at the back of Jack’s mind. Sam started to beep insistently. 

The doctor tugged the mask off and reached into his pocket. “I’ll just need to run a few tests if you don’t mind.” 

Jack blinked and for a moment, time seemed to slow.

Something...something was off. The way his hair looked, the color of his eyes, the way his smile stretched across his face. The...knife he was pulling out of his pocket. 

The pupils of his eyes started to stretch out, soon overtaking the blue of his irises. “You’ll just need...to stay still, for just a moment.” 

Jack stumbled back, his back crashing into the cart behind him with a clatter. “Get away from me!” 

The doctor swayed forward unsteadily, his knife swiping through the air. The air around him started to glitch and splinter, bits of other worlds flashing for a moment and then disappearing. When he next spoke, his voice sounded staticky, like suddenly his voicebox had a bad connection, “_It’ll be easier if you don’t fight. _”

Jack flung himself towards the door, careening into the hallway and slamming it behind him before taking off. 

At some point, the room numbers started to blend together, morphing into archaic lines and symbols. Jack’s heart pounded, pounded until it felt like it couldn’t fit in his chest anymore, his lungs ached for more oxygen than what existed in the entire universe, the lights flashed on and off, yellow to white to yellow again. Behind him, he could hear the demon in a man’s suit chasing after him, his calls echoing feverishly along breaking walls. 

So he ran. He ran and he ran and he ran and he ra n and he r a n-

At some point, he noticed the walls around him starting to blur in between black and red as the calls screeched louder and louder behind him. “Jack, it will only hurt more the longer you make me _ wait _.” It echoed feverishly in his ears and he skidded to a stop as a red doorway opened next to him. 

He looked over at Sam quickly, his breath caught in his chest. Sam pushed out from his hoodie and rushed through, disappearing into the red quickly. As Jack was about to follow, he suddenly felt a hand grab his wrist, fingerprints burning into his skin. 

He froze and looked up slowly. The creature above him didn’t look like a man anymore, its eyes dripping onyx tears, a wide scarlet smile peeling across its face, its skin graying and fraying at the edges like an old picture. The knife in its hand dripped blood, thick and wet. When it spoke, its voice only grated against Jack’s ears, squeaky like the air hissing out of a balloon yet empty and buzzy like a broken radio signal, “_ Found you~ _.” 

Jack tried to scream but his voice died at the pit of his stomach. His thoughts roiled and hissed against his cranium, trying to break out, to air the futile shrieks that couldn’t breach the silence. He ripped his arm back, trying to ignore the cracking sound as its fingers ripped off, hissing as black tar spread up his arm. 

He stumbled back until his back hit the wall. It straightened up, looming in the flickering light. _ Fuck, fuck, fuck- _He needed to do something...

He paused as he noticed sparking popping against the skin of his hands. The air...it was crackling. 

He was...asleep, right? This was a dream. So he should be able to control it. 

He closed his eyes and thought as hard as he could, _ My hands are glowing. _He felt a sudden warmth flood across his fingers. He opened his eyes again to see a burning green fire sitting adjacent to his palm. The monster stumbled towards him, the knife swinging up through the air at him. 

He took a couple steps back, pivoting the fire up and trying to imagine it pushing forward through the air. As his foot stepped back through the doorway, he felt liquid condensation meet his skin, just as a green bolt plowed into the looming black figure. It crashed back into the wall and, before it could get back up, Jack turned around and charged through the portal. 


	8. Take a Cat Nap, Buddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin really, really needs to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Coma here! Thank you so much for all your support, and I've come to apologise for the unannounced hiatus. Holidays have been wack and I've been suffering from major writing block. But Thought Contagion is back, and hopefully chapter updates will come faster! Thank you again for sticking around and continuing to read.   
Join my Discord server for updates or to hang out! https://discord.gg/BKsAGEz

The connection to Jack’s inner mind was slipping and Marvin gritted his teeth trying to hold it together. The mindscape was falling around him, quickly being replaced with the semi-steady beeping of the heart monitor and the sterile white walls of the hospital room. The magician growled and cursed under his breath. Before he knew it, the real world solidified around him, Jackie calling his name with urgency.

“Marv, what’s happening?” Jackie asked, his voice feeling like dry ice in his ears.

Marvin blinked quickly, glancing around to try to ground himself. After a few seconds, he found his voice. “My magic is being blocked. I couldn’t get a good connection,” he explained quickly. Marvin slowly pulled his hands away from Jack’s body, willing his shaking fingers still. “Something is definitely happening though.”

Jackie grimaced and straightened up, looking down at his comatose friend. “What do you mean? Is Jack okay?”

Marvin shook his head, slowing his breathing down. “I couldn’t tell what was happening, but he sounded like he was panicking. I cut out right after I tried to ask him to describe what was happening.” He sighed, turning his eyes up to Jackie and Jameson.

Jameson shifted on his feet nervously, refusing to take his eyes off of the heart monitor, as if he was waiting for it to return to chaos.  _ “So what now?” _ he signed sheepishly. Henrik took a couple steps forward next to Marvin and put his hand on the side banister, listening with a furrowed brow.

Marvin rubbed his head, a dull headache forming under his scalp. “I’m going to portal home for a few seconds so I can pick up my equipment and books, then I’ll come back,” the magician announced, trying to keep his voice even. Above him, his friends exchanged worried glances. Marvin gripped the sheets on the bed, pushing himself up to a standing position. He blinked as his vision filled with blurry black spots. He took a step away from the bed, catching Jackie shifting nervously from the corner of his eye. Marvin attempted to step again, but…

The whole weight of the world shifted before he could react and he toppled to the clean tile floor like a rock. The gasps of his friends barely crossed his ears as the feeling of hands clutched at his arms, pulling him up and sitting him down on something level. Marvin tried to wave them off, but his hand simply slumped onto his lap.

Jackie’s voice drifted into the magician’s awareness from his left. “Nope, nope! I knew this would happen, I fuckin’ knew it!” Marvin could feel his ice-cold glare on his skin, but was too dazed to rebut.

“How long have you been awake?” Henrik barked from Marvin’s right. 

“Way too long,” Jackie answered, earning him a sleepy glare. “He’s been too focused on Jack to sleep, ever since we made contact that first time.”

Marvin groaned, trying to stand back up. “Mm, guys, ‘m fine. The spell jus’ -”

Henrik interrupted him, putting a hand on his shoulder and forcing him back down. “Marvin, you look horrible. You  _ need _ to sleep.”

“But Anti -” The whole room winced at the sound of  _ his _ name before Marvin realized what he had said.

Marvin opened his eyes to the best of his abilities to see Jackie kneeling in front of him, annoyance turning to deep concern. “Marv, please. I get that you want to help Jack, we all do. But we can’t help him if we’re half dead. Take care of yourself, replenish your magic, and we’ll try again. Jack can handle himself in there for a little while longer.”

He held his gaze for a second and Marvin finally caved with a deep sigh. He had known Jackie since they were both in primary school, and the younger was always able to convince him to do anything with those sappy pleading eyes. As much as Marvin wanted to stay and keep trying, he knew the others were right. His magic was failing and rest was his only option if he wanted to help Jack. 

Marvin took a glance past Henrik and at the heart monitor. All of his vitals were relatively secure now, save for a slightly raised blood pressure. There wasn’t much he could do, so he gave his friends short, shaky nods. “Alright, alright. But, please, promise me, if something goes crazy again, you’ll wake me up.” 

Jackie and Henrik exchanged quick glances between each other before the younger of the two nodded. Marvin resigned, scratching his scalp and pulling his tangled hair out of his bun, feeling the thick locks fall past his shoulders.

“I’m gonna call a taxi. There’s no way I’m letting Marv portal us home,” Jackie announced, pulling his smartphone out the pouch on his hip. Marvin replied with a half-hearted, defiant hum, now slumped over with his head resting in his hand. Behind him, he heard Jameson pull out his small notebook and scribble something quickly, clicking his fingers to grab the vigilante’s attention. 

Jackie paused and mumbled to himself. “‘If you don’t mind…-’ Oh, yeah Jamie, you can come over!” He agreed cheerfully before pulling away and answering a call. Marvin felt guilty for being out of commission and forcing Jameson to use his notebook since he was the only one who knew sign and could understand him, but he barely had enough strength to even raise his head.

Henrik moved away from his friends and settled down at the desk, scooching his chair closer to Jack’s bed. “I’m going to stay here to keep an eye on him and finish these reports,” he said decisively. 

Marvin hadn’t realized how much time had passed until goodbyes and see you laters were exchanged and Jameson and Jackie started ushering him around the winding hallways of the hospital and out through the entrance. The three were greeted with the smiling face of a middle-aged woman sitting inside a black car, who signaled them to get in. After a twenty-five minute drive through the busy streets, the taxi driver stopped in front of their apartment complex.

Jameson waved his thanks to the woman and pulled on Marvin’s sleeve to exit the car. Jackie stayed behind for a few more seconds to give her payment, before slipping out and joining his two friends, carefully leading Marvin up the stairs and through the doors. When they got Marvin into the sitting room, the two had to practically carry him to the couch. Marvin sat down with a groan, rubbing his face harshly to keep any sort of consciousness he had left.

Jameson pulled out his notebook again and scribbled something, earning a nod from Jackie before he walked away into the kitchen. Jackie knelt down and put a hand on Marvin’s shoulder. “Jams is going to heat up some soup for you to eat, and then you can sleep,” he relayed, looking at his friend like an overly-concerned parent. 

Marvin raised his eyebrow and pulled his eyelids open. “Oh, so ‘m gonna eat some real food?” he sneered with a grin, earning him a light flick to his temple. Jackie got up and began gathering a pillow and some blankets as Marvin slumped over on his side, his entire body starting to feel heavy. As his eyes closed, he felt his head being picked up and placed on a soft cushion and a knitted blanket draped over him. The comforting weight made him relax more into the couch, and he drifted off to sleep.


	9. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin has a nightmare ;)

Pain roiled across his body. That was the first thing he was conscious of when he appeared in a slump in the darkened corner of the place he decided would be his home base. Screens covered every wall, black, dripping corruption helping them stick together. Some of the screens lay abandoned on the floor, untouched after the glue holding them in place had weakened and slowly vanished.

The dark oozing cuts where the light had hit him snapped with electricity unstably as he glitched over to the desk. His mind buzzed in and out, in and out, as cacophonous waves crashed in, each worse than the last.

Bandages appeared in his hands, his vision blinked out, and they were wrapped around his chest. He tried to lean against the desk and phased through it, jolting to the ground.

His atoms disintegrated, folded, and formed again as he tumbled into a chair. He folded his hand over his eyes and growled in annoyance.

A screen weakly flickered on in front of him. The man and his ocular companion appeared on it, waves of static washing over their forms. He directed his blurring gaze up to them and focused. There had to be something he recognized in the room they were in; he’d been everywhere by this point.

His eyes flickered across the screen and focused on the cabinets with stacks of medication dripping with black fluid. A smile slowly spread across his face and the screen sparked as a red sheen rode on and off the screen for a moment before it turned off with a burst of electricity.

He slid up to his feet, his image blurring for a moment, and when it became stable again, he was standing outside of the room he knew Jack was in. A soft murmur of conversation drifted beneath the door and he placed his hand against it, the environment starting to crumple.

Through the door, Jack’s eyes widened with fear and he stepped in front of Sam, gesturing for him to stay behind. The vials on the shelves started to shake, some of them toppled to the ground, and corruption began to spread out across the floor, some of it sticking to Jack’s feet. He closed his eyes, focusing for a moment, and a dull glimmer of light appeared around his hands, though it wasn’t nearly enough to hold off the darkness closing in around him.

_That’s too bad. Things were actually looking up for him for once._

_Isn’t that right, Marvin?_

Marvin shot up, his hand catching on the arm of the couch so he didn’t fall off. His head pounded, though it felt clear-headed for the first time in days. The sleep really had been a good idea.

A covered bowl of soup sat on a table in front of him. A note from Jamie said they’d all headed back to the hospital after unsuccessfully attempting to wake him up. He could join them once they were awake but he had to be sure to eat the soup.

Marvin smiled and lifted the top off of the bowl, picked up the spoon on the table, and started to eat. As he ate, something nagged him at the back at his mind, probably about whatever nightmare he’d had. Too bad that he couldn’t remember it. It probably wasn’t important anyway.

Once he’d finished the soup, he placed the bowl in the sink, grabbed a jacket and his bag off of the floor, and, feeling happy about his return of energy, portaled back to the hospital.


End file.
